


Chains of Captivity

by TwilightKnight17



Series: Hours 'Verse [10]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Implied Neglect, Reconciliation, this sort of counts as The Answer since it's about coping with leftover feelings I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 01:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15450213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwilightKnight17/pseuds/TwilightKnight17
Summary: “It shall become the wings of rebellion that breaketh thy chains of captivity…”The Fool’s Journey ends with the World, once everything has reached its conclusion. But the heaviest chain upon the Trickster was not forged by the God of Control. Link by link, year by year, it was crafted, and unless it shatters, he will never reach that last milestone and achieve his full potential.





	1. March 22, 2017

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit heavier than the other stuff in this series, honestly. But...Akira needed the opportunity to confront his parents. And this is still technically fix-fic even though I'm past most of what needed to be fixed, so...optimism! I think.

Being on the road with no adult supervision was its own kind of freedom. The metaverse had been one thing, but having the ability to go anywhere that they wanted in reality was an incomparable lightness.

Within reason, anyway. Their end goal was always a specific place, but they’d definitely taken the scenic route to get there. There were a lot of small communities between Tokyo and Akira’s hometown, and not taking the train gave them the leisure to get out and explore at will. Yusuke filled half a sketchpad in just one day, and Haru, who’d never really been anywhere but big cities, was delighted to see as much as possible. 

On the night of the second day, they found a small inn with room for nine people. There was just a little more left in their trip if they went straight there in the morning, and agreement was reached quickly to leave right after breakfast. Whenever breakfast ended up being when two or three of their number could sleep ‘til noon on a normal day.

“How come I have to sleep on the cot?” Morgana whined, kicking his feet. “Can’t Ryuji?” Despite his annoyance at being roughly twelve instead of an older teenager like the rest of them, his demeanor perfectly matched his visible age most of the time, to the great amusement of the other Thieves.

Ryuji looked over disdainfully from where he and Yusuke were deciding how many pillows they each wanted. “Oh no you don’t. I’m sleeping on an actual bed on this vacation. You’re the youngest, so you get the foldaway cot.”

Morgana looked pleadingly at Akira, who was scrolling through something on his phone and not paying a bit of attention to the discussion. He knew he’d have no luck there, but at the very least he thought he’d hit on Ryuji not wanting to share a bed with Yusuke. It was almost a shame Ryuji had managed to grow up so much.

Goro wandered out of the bathroom, yawning. “Are you guys really still talking? It’s one in the morning; we need to sleep if we’re going to be meeting Akira’s parents in the morning.”

“Morgana was expressing objections to our sleeping arrangements,” Yusuke said, and Goro shrugged.

“Everyone else is too tall for the cot, Morgana. Sorry. It’s just one night.” He didn’t sound sorry at all, and flopped down beside Akira with a sigh.

“Did you text your dads?” Ryuji asked with a shit-eating grin.

Goro glared at him. “I told all of you to stop calling them that! I texted Mochizuki-san and Arisato-san. They told us to have fun, but I am having less fun every time one of you calls them my parents.”

“You must admit, they have done a good job of taking care of you,” Yusuke commented. “You are quite lucky.”

“...I know I am.” Goro tugged at the covers. “Akira, move, you’re sitting on the sheets.”

“Hm?” Akira finally looked up from his phone, his gaze far less alert than usual, and scooted over obediently. Goro scrutinized him with narrowed eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“What?” Akira set his phone on the side table and shrugged. “Of course I’m okay, I’m just tired.” He stretched out on the bed, pulling the sheets up and extending an arm so Goro could curl up with him. “We should all be asleep. Big day tomorrow and all.”

“Right…” Even Ryuji sounded skeptical, but he and Yusuke settled in as well, and once they made sure Morgana was in bed, the lamp was cut off and all of them gradually drifted to sleep.

***

Akira’s eyes flew open less than an hour later, breaths coming in sharp inhales as he woke from another nightmare. He didn’t know why they weren’t getting better. They’d actually gotten _worse_ in the week leading up to this trip, and while he’d hoped that being around all of his friends might act as a balm against them, it clearly wasn’t happening. He tried to focus on Goro’s breath against his neck, Goro’s hand curled into his shirt over his racing heart as he tried to slow the frantic beats.

And then Goro’s arm slid across him to tighten around his waist, and his boyfriend said quietly, “Nightmare?”

Akira nodded in the dark. “Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Goro asked.

“Not really.” It was hard to explain in the abstract. He’d dreamed of his old room overlaid with the Velvet prison, the barred door and inhospitable cot, and didn’t know how to explain that he was kind of afraid of his parents.

He felt like he didn’t know how to interact with them anymore. Every conversation could be a potential minefield. Back in Tokyo, he didn’t have to worry about explaining his nightmares; Sojiro would understand if he said he dreamed of Yaldabaoth, or the interrogation, and would make him coffee and sit with him until his nerves settled. He’d done it more than once, since his release from juvie in February. But if he told his parents that he had nightmares of brokering a deal with the God of Control, becoming a wicked tyrant in order to keep his friends alive, they would probably send him straight to some kind of asylum. He certainly couldn’t tell them the truth.

This was seeming more and more like a bad idea. How was he going to explain Morgana? Or Goro? The last time he’d spoken to them, he’d told them his boyfriend was dead, because he’d believed it. He should have just let Sojiro call them to explain instead of coming back here, where they could try to keep him from going back to Tokyo…

“I get them too,” Goro said, his voice a soothing hush beneath Akira’s ear. “At the risk of sounding annoying, Sonomura-san says that it’s normal for people who have been through so much to have nightmares after the fact, when you have the luxury to realize how badly things might have gone. You just have to remember that the past has already passed, and cannot change your present now.”

Akira huffed a weak laugh, shifting to kiss Goro’s forehead. “I’m not afraid of the past,” he said vaguely, but Goro seemed to pick up on what he meant regardless.

“You told me once that no one was going to keep me away from you,” he said pointedly, and dug his fingers into Akira’s hip possessively. “That goes both ways. You know that all of us are prepared to protect you, even from your own parents, I hope?”

“I know… I just, they’re my parents.”

“So was Shido,” Goro said, voice icy, and Akira got the message. He tugged Goro closer to bury his face in soft chestnut hair and let one hand drift over his boyfriend’s ass.

“I’m so lucky to have such a protective boyfriend,” he teased, trying for a lighthearted tone.

Goro swatted at him ineffectively. “If you do that in front of your parents I’m throwing you to the wolves and leaving you there.”

“But honey…”

“Be quiet and go back to sleep.”

Akira laughed, but complied. He was still anxious, but knowing that all of his friends would be there, acting as a safety net… It made all the difference in the world.

***

The mood in the van once they got on the road was less jovial than the day before, all of them subconsciously knowing that this was too important for jokes. When they arrived in Akira’s hometown just past noon, they stopped at an inn and went ahead and reserved rooms, assuming they were spending one night at the minimum. It was a fairly large town, and there was plenty to explore outside of the reason they were there. But the mission always came first for the Phantom Thieves, and all of them walked together towards Akira’s house.

It was a nice house, indicative of parents with good jobs that made a fair amount of money, and Akira rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he rang the doorbell, knowing he couldn’t just drag all of his friends inside with no warning. He barely felt like _he_ could go inside, after being away for a year. The last time he’d spoken to his parents, he’d screamed at them, after all. 

Goro stood at his side, their fingers twined together, and Morgana was holding on to the tail of his shirt, missing the days he could at least see things from the level of Akira’s shoulder.

When his mother opened the door, she smiled.

“Akira!” Kurusu Megumi shared her son’s dark, curly hair and expressive eyes, and she stepped forward immediately and drew him into a hug. He let go of Goro’s hand to awkwardly hug her back, and then she looked over the whole group before waving them inside with only a fraction of a second of hesitation. “Sakura-san didn’t mention that all of your friends were coming.”

“Any opportunity for a group vacation, ma’am,” Ann said brightly. “And we wanted to see what Akira’s hometown was like!”

There weren’t enough seats in the living room for eleven people, so the Thieves scattered around on the floor as well. They met Akira’s father, Kurusu Satoru, and everyone settled in before Akira’s mother said, “So how did all of you meet Akira?”

They’d known that almost anything would be a loaded question, but even that was enough to get them to share anxious glances, before Makoto took charge.

“Most of us went to school with him,” she said. “Sorry, we didn’t really introduce ourselves. I’m Niijima Makoto.” She looked around at the others expectantly, and everyone took their turn to give their names.

Everything was going fine until just Goro and Morgana were left, and Morgana said without thinking, “I’m Kurusu Morgana!”

Akira’s parents stared at the little boy with clear confusion, and Akira swallowed hard. They’d gotten used to thinking of him like that in the time since Akira’s birthday, since he needed to be able to introduce himself to people. Takemi, Iwai, and Akira’s other confidantes in Tokyo had just shrugged off the sudden appearance of a child sharing Akira’s last name. None of them had thought ahead of time that maybe introducing himself like that to Akira’s actual parents wasn’t a good idea.

“Morgana is...basically my little brother,” Akira said through the lump in his throat, keeping his voice carefully even.

Before his parents could say anything, Goro jumped in as the last to introduce himself and hopefully distract from Morgana. “I’m Akechi Goro,” he said politely. “We’re all grateful for your hospitality.”

“...Akechi? Aren’t you the Detective Prince?” Akira’s father asked.

“Ah, I wasn’t sure if anyone outside of Tokyo knew my reputation.” Goro offered the adults a beaming television smile, and they exchanged a glance before addressing their son.

“Akira, can we speak to you for a moment?”

His feet felt like lead weights, dragging like he was still locked into the shackles from the Velvet Room, but Akira didn’t know what to do other than get up and follow them towards the kitchen. He could feel his friends staring at his back, but none of them said anything, uncertain whether it would help or hurt to speak up.

The wooden kitchen floor was uncomfortably familiar, and Akira followed the pattern of the grain with his eyes, just waiting to see what they would say. He had done something wrong again, hadn’t he? This was pathetic. He’d shot a god, and his own parents made him want to sink into the floor and hide.

“We were hoping to get an explanation for your behavior while you were in Tokyo,” Satoru said bluntly. He didn’t sound angry, but Akira flinched anyway.

“Which part?” he mumbled. He’d done any number of things they wouldn’t like.

“The last time we spoke, you screamed at your mother on the phone, and now that you’ve come home, you’ve brought all of these friends with no warning. We need to talk, Akira, and that can’t happen with all of these people in the house,” Satoru said firmly. “You should have called ahead to let us know that you were bringing other people with you.”

“We’re worried about you. You said someone had died, and all of that fuss over the Phantom Thieves…” Megumi tried to meet his eyes, but he was still looking at the floor.

Akira swallowed hard. “No one died. I made a mistake. There was--”

“That’s a pretty big mistake,” Megumi said before he’d even finished talking, concerned. “Sakura-san called to tell us you were on the way home, but he said you wanted to explain the rest yourself. We decided not to pry since this seemed better to do in person, but we know what we saw, Akira. That was you on television, leading the Phantom Thieves. The news mentioned that the leader was testifying against Shido Masayoshi. We’d rather not do this in front of your friends, but this is important.”

“My friends know,” Akira said finally, looking up. “They _are_ the Phantom Thieves. You’re the only ones in this house that don’t know everything!” That caught his parents off-guard, and he continued in a rush, “What was I supposed to do? Call you up and tell you that the police were after me? Exactly what I would have needed: you guys mad at me on top of everything else.”

“Why would you assume that we would get mad?” his father asked. “You can’t know how we’re going to react to something unless you tell us.”

Akira felt like the room was pressing in on him. “Why wouldn’t you get mad? You’re always disappointed, you never believe me about anything! Everything is always my fault!”

“W-What are you talking about?” his mother said. “Always disappointed? Why would you think that?”

_“You sent me away!”_ Akira shouted, well-aware that his friends could probably hear him by this point. “You shipped me off to Tokyo based on a lie, because you didn’t believe me! Sojiro took better care of me than you ever did because at least he listened to me!”

“Akira?” Goro appeared in the doorway, looking worried, and Akira turned on his heel and pushed past him, heading for the front door. He just needed a minute to get himself together. Ignoring his friends’ confused calls, he let the door slam behind him, and silence filled the house.

Goro straightened up, turning cold maroon eyes on Akira’s parents as they stared at the space where their son had been. “Forgive me,” he said, any hint of television-ready politeness gone from his voice, “but I was concerned about the impression that we made. I hope that you were not holding Akira at fault for all of us wanting to come along.”

“Of course not,” Satoru said. “Just that he should have let us know how many people were coming, so we could prepare.”

“It’s quite all right. We had no intentions of imposing on your hospitality.” He wasn’t being rude, not directly, but both adults were giving him a look like they weren’t sure if he was being impertinent or not. But Goro wasn’t afraid of them, and he went back to the living room to check on the other Thieves. Makoto and Haru were missing, and before he could ask Ann said, “They went after him.”

“What did those bastards say to him?” Ryuji hissed, and Morgana elbowed him.

“Shut up! They’ll hear you!”

Goro held up a hand. “I’m not sure exactly what they said, but I think it would be best if we hold our tongues for now. People grow defensive when they feel ganged up on, and we do not want to make this worse before Akira comes back.” He knew that he had to watch himself; he would want to spit fire at the slightest negative implication towards his boyfriend. Akira had done so much for all of them. He didn’t deserve to have his parents tear him down.

If he didn’t want to do this, they would go, no questions asked. But if he still wanted to try, the Thieves would be there. These people weren’t Shido, not even close, but he still understood at least some of how Akira was feeling. 

Hopefully Makoto and Haru could get him to come back, so he wouldn’t try to deal with this on his own. He didn’t have to. Not anymore.

***

Makoto spotted their leader first. His fluffy head was visible from where he sat on the end of a slide at a small playground nearby. There was no one else around, and Haru held a finger to her lips before creeping towards the play equipment on graceful feet. All of them had learned to be nearly soundless as Thieves, and combined with Akira’s distracted emotional state, she was able to get to the top and push herself down the slide.

She crashed into him, and the momentum knocked his ass off the end of the slide, sending him into the mulch between her legs. His head fell back at exactly the right height to land in her lap, and she immediately trapped him the best way that she knew how: by sinking both hands into his hair and petting.

He went limp, the tension and initial surprise draining from him at the touch, and Makoto came over to sit across from him. He wasn’t crying, but there was a telltale redness around his eyes, and he looked exhausted.

“Akira-kun,” Haru said gently. “We’re here for you. You don’t have to run off alone.”

“Sorry…” Akira mumbled. “I just… I don’t like crying in front of people.”

“We’re your friends. We’re not going to judge you,” Makoto assured him.

He sighed, slumping further against Haru. “I know. ...Why did I think this was a good idea? I can barely talk to them without getting upset.”

“You’ve bottled up so much that the pressure is always looking for ways to escape,” Haru said. “At this point, even the smallest thing is too much to keep down anymore.” She combed his bangs back from his face, softly working tangles from his hair as she spoke. “Please let us help you. We’re here to be your backup, Leader, as we always have. You aren’t fighting this alone.”

Akira sighed. “How did we win, and there’s still a battle to fight?”

Makoto pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on her folded arms. “Maybe it’s not a battle. Just a negotiation.”

“What do you mean? They’re not going to listen to me. They just want to tell me what they think about what they think I did.” Akira tipped his head back against Haru’s stomach, and she scritched gently behind his ears the way she would to Morgana, when he was still a cat.

He hummed at the attention as Makoto said, quiet but authoritative, “There are two sides to this, Leader, and you know it. You really aren’t helping the situation.”

“Mako-chan,” Haru began, but Makoto shook her head.

“I understand,” she continued. “I know what it’s like. Sis and I walked on eggshells for ages, especially after everything with Kaneshiro. You just want to be quiet, and keep them from getting upset. But I know you, Akira, and I know that sometimes you have trouble getting words out of your head and out into the open. They can’t listen to you if you don’t speak, so let us help you. Let us protect you, so that you can say what you need to, and so that they can try to understand you.” She leaned forward, as if willing him to look at her instead of staring at the sky. “Sis and I talked about everything, after December and while she was working on your case. It really helped. I promise.”

Akira managed to meet her gaze, grey eyes filled with uncertainty. It was never something that they saw from him in the metaverse. Only from the real Akira, and only at times like these. He reached up to take one of Haru’s hands and one of Makoto’s, and said quietly, “And what if they don’t want to understand? I’m not sure they ever have before.”

Haru squeezed his hand. “Then we take you home. You have all of us, and Boss, and everyone back in Tokyo. You aren’t in prison here, there, or anywhere anymore. Things will be okay no matter what.”

Akira took a huge breath, as if trying to reinflate his crumbled emotional state, and pushed himself to his feet. “...we should go back, then. I’m sure the others are worried. Thank you.”

“They’re concerned, but they know you’ll be back. Goro-kun was still in the kitchen when we left, though,” Haru said thoughtfully.

All three of them hesitated at the realization that they had left Goro, who was no longer murderous but still petty as hell and a master of passive-aggression, in a house with two people that had just upset his most important person. Akira chewed his lip, then quipped, “Well, I hope the house is still there when we get back.”

Haru and Makoto grabbed his hands again, and they set off back down the street towards his parents' house. This wasn’t going to be easy, but he was realizing that he couldn’t give up without even trying, even if it led to a fight. A challenge hadn’t frightened him as a Phantom Thief, and he couldn’t let it frighten him now.

Otherwise nothing was going to change.

There were a few people out and about on their lunch breaks as the trio made their way back, and most of them glanced aimlessly at him before doing a doubletake. It made Akira want to laugh. The violent delinquent, home again after a year and hand-in-hand with two pretty girls. Who knew what they must be thinking of him now?

It didn’t matter. He wasn’t staying here anyway. None of these people would ever have to see him again except for his parents, and even they depended on how this visit went.

The other Thieves and Akira’s parents were sitting awkwardly in the living room in silence. Yusuke had a glass of water, and Morgana sipped at a cup of juice, but other than that everyone was just waiting, uncomfortable. Akira walked over to drop onto the sofa next to Goro, who reached for his hand and squeezed reassuringly as Makoto turned to the two adults.

“We want to explain,” she began simply. “All of this is complicated, and I know there’s things that you must want to say too. But please, if you would just listen, we can give you answers.”

She stepped aside to give Akira space, and he squeezed his eyes shut and steeled himself before looking right at them and saying bluntly, “We’re the Phantom Thieves. All of us. But… Ryuji, Morgana, and I were the first, all the way back during the first week of school. It’s been almost a year.”

Just like Sojiro, they looked dumbstruck, and Akira’s father said incredulously, “You were only there a _few days_ before all of this started?”

“It started day one, when the man you sent me to live with put me in a dirty attic and told me I was there because I was a pain in the ass,” Akira said bitterly. “The two of you don’t actually know Boss, do you? Sakura-san, I mea--”

“We’ve never met in person, no, but Miyazumi-san lives in the neighborhood and vouched for his character,” Akira’s mother said immediately.

“Well, whatever you told him, he thought I was going to be some troublemaking delinquent. He was gruff and cold for weeks until I’d apparently proved that I wasn’t some hooligan waiting to terrorize the neighborhood as soon as he turned his back.” Akira hunched over, leaning his elbows on his knees and looking up at them from under his hair. “I didn’t even know if he was going to feed me other than scraps of leftovers from the cafe. But I tried to be optimistic, and the only response I got when I texted you was ‘don’t cause trouble’.”

“We’re your parents. That’s what we do: remind you to behave,” Megumi responded. “And you clearly didn’t listen, if you immediately became some kind of thief.”

“I didn’t have a choi--”

“You were supposed to go to Shujin to avoid all of the gossip that was circulating here.”

“Yeah, well that didn’t wo--”

“The intention was never for you to end up as some kind of...some kind of criminal mastermind. You could have ended up in prison! Or dead, based on what you said!”

Akira didn’t try to say anything else. He let his mother keep talking about what could have happened to him, his grip on Goro’s hand growing tighter and tighter as he started to tremble, until finally his boyfriend snapped.

“Excuse me,” Goro said, his voice utterly caustic in a way none of them had heard since November. Megumi fell silent, and he continued, poison dripping from every word, “I was under the impression that you wanted an explanation. But you won’t actually let him speak. Which is it? Do you want him to explain, or just berate him?”

“Hey,” Morgana said urgently, scooting over to try to see Akira’s face despite his bowed head. “Are you okay?”

Akira nodded. It felt like the second interrogation, where they’d asked one question and then launched into a tirade about his crimes and his transport to juvenile detention. All it said to him was that his mother, just like the detectives, didn’t actually care what he had to say. But he wasn’t alone anymore, and his friends were bristling on his behalf.

“Kurusu-san, please, just let him talk,” Ann blurted. “What happened at Shujin wasn’t his fault!”

“That asshole Kamoshida did everything!” Ryuji added. “He started it all, way before Akira even got there!”

Satoru reached over to lay a hand over his wife’s. “All right,” he agreed. “We won’t talk from now on unless you give a signal that it’s okay. Will that help?”

Akira hesitated, not sure if he believed them, especially because his mother looked equally uncertain. But he nodded. “If I stop talking for longer than a normal pause, you can ask questions.” 

_Negotiation,_ Makoto had said. Give and take. If they let him talk, he could answer questions. Within reason.

“When I got to Shujin, everyone already knew about me. And gossip just made it worse. People treated me like I was going to stab them for looking at me wrong. Kamoshida, the volleyball coach, leaked my record. I don’t know why. I guess he didn’t want someone like me there, and wanted to make it as miserable for me as possible? But I met Ryuji and Ann and Morgana, and found out he was abusing the students, and we ended up changing his heart, as phantom thieves.” Akira shook his head. “And before you ask, I’m not telling you how we did it. It doesn’t matter, because the method is gone now anyway. It won’t work anymore.”

His parents waited to make sure that he wasn’t going to keep talking, and then his mother said, “We sent you to Shujin because we didn’t want you to have to deal with all of the gossip here. Why didn’t you call us? We could have done something, but you didn’t even try to tell us that anything was wrong.”

“What would you have done?” Akira muttered. “Sorry, from my perspective you’d just sent me away, after not doing anything to try to make me feel better about anything. I assumed that you thought I was guilty, and that if I called you, you’d just get angry that I was already causing trouble.”

“Akira, you never tried to talk to us about what happened. Of course we didn’t think you were guilty, but there wasn’t anything we could do to fight the conviction if there was a witness,” Satoru said. “All we could do was try to send you somewhere so that you would be all right while everything blew over.”

“Well that didn’t work!” Akira cried. “All that did was make me think you wanted to get rid of me! And I knew that if I called you about Kamoshida trying to expel me, you’d just ask what I did wrong. I knew that if I told you about the Thieves, the fact that we were working outside the law would overshadow any good that we were doing. Because that’s how it goes. I do one thing wrong, and it’s the only thing that matters.”

“What do you mean?” Megumi asked, and Akira bit his lip.

The words felt stuck in his throat, like there was a wall keeping them from getting out. He opened and closed his mouth a few times helplessly, casting his gaze desperately around at his friends. His eyes jumped from Haru’s kind expression, to Futaba’s worried stare, to Yusuke’s calm, resolute face, and he knew that whatever he said, they would help him if things went wrong. Goro squeezed his hand gently, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “It’s always been like that,” he said. “I’d get one thing wrong on a school assignment, and that would be what you’d focus on. Nevermind that I got everything else right.”

“We just wanted you to do your best.”

“Mistakes don’t mean I’m not doing my best!” Akira scowled. “I walk away one time on a trip to Tokyo Tower and I’ve apparently got some kind of discipline problem, even though I behaved the whole rest of the time.”

“You can’t just walk away from us in a crowd; you were a chil--”

“You didn’t have to act like that one thing made me a bad kid! You did the same thing in Sumaru; that guy gave me flowers, and you acted like I’d stolen them! My whole life, you’ve always focused on the negatives. You never praised me when I succeeded because that’s what was expected, or else it wasn’t good enough. That’s why I quit gymnastics, because I knew I’d never be good enough for you unless I was some kind of Olympic medalist. And I tried to be quiet, I tried to be good, but I wanted to help people, too, and every time I did you got mad at me for causing trouble or being in a fight.”

“And look where it got you!” his mother said, almost shrill. “You nearly died! God, if we’d known it was you when they reported on the suicide… Do you know what that would have done to us? We love you, Akira, we’ve always wanted the best for you. If you had died…”

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have spent my whole childhood making me feel like I was always doing something wrong,” Akira said, and it was like a weight crashing to the floor between them; the entirety of his mindset laid out in one plain statement. “You wanted the best for me, but your idea of the best wasn’t the same as mine, obviously. And you never tried to understand that. You wanted me to be more like your idea of a good kid, and you never considered trying to help the kid I was, instead.”

Akira’s parents stared at him, struck silent and dumbfounded by everything he had said. Even the Thieves were shocked, unaware how deep their leader’s ill thoughts had run. They knew that he felt resentful of how they had treated him, but to to realize it was this bad… It hurt all of them.

No one knew what to say. Akira had practically folded over on himself, and Ann scooted over to rub circles against his back, since Goro’s hand was still trapped in his grip.

“...you never said anything about any of this,” his father said at last. “Because you thought we would be angry with you?”

“It’s stupid, I know,” Akira muttered.

“It’s not stupid,” Yusuke said sharply. “We all have felt the same at one point or another. I feared speaking out against Madarame, Makoto feared upsetting her sister, Haru felt she couldn’t oppose her father… Your situation is not wholly unique, and therefore your feelings are understandable.”

Akira jolted to look up at him, eyes wide, at the same time as Ryuji said, “Dude, uh, did you just compare Akira’s parents to…?”

“Oh dear,” Haru whispered.

Akira’s parents looked at each other, and then his mother asked levelly, “Do all of you have somewhere to stay?”

“We have rooms at an inn, yes,” Makoto replied.

Megumi looked at each of them before her gaze settled on Akira. “I think it would be best if all of you left for now, so that we can think over what you’ve said. It’s quite a bit to process, that your child thinks you’re an unreasonable monster that doesn’t love him.”

“That’s not what I said!” Akira objected, but she looked away.

“Please leave, Akira.”

Ryuji and Morgana were seconds from yelling in unison, but a sharp glare from Goro had them shutting their mouths. The Thieves got up and headed for the door, and Akira’s father walked them out.

“I’ll talk to your mother,” Satoru said. “We really didn’t realize you felt this way, Akira, and we should have asked more about how you were doing.”

“It’s okay,” Akira said, though it clearly wasn’t. “If she wants to disown me or something, that’s fine. I wanted to stay in Tokyo anyway.”

“Son…” But he knew there wasn’t much point in saying anything more while everyone was so wound up, so Satoru just looked away. “We’ll talk this evening, or tomorrow. I’m sorry things got this bad.”

“So am I,” Akira spat, and walked away.

***

Akira put on a brave face and tried to give them a tour of his hometown, but somewhere around the halfway point his facade cracked. They’d been near another playground, a larger park close to the middle of town, and he’d been explaining that the first place he’d seen the Velvet Room was nearby. He’d mentioned that his mother had gotten annoyed when he tried to tell her about the door, and that was enough to crumple what little bit of a mask he had salvaged.

Goro took him back to the inn after he insisted that the rest of them keep exploring. He was bundled into bed, leaned against Goro’s chest, and Goro rested his chin in unruly curls.

“Does it feel any better, now that you’ve said all of that?” he asked, one hand resting beneath Akira’s shirt as a point of warmth on his side.

“I don’t know,” Akira muttered, listless. “I feel like all I managed was upsetting them. That doesn’t make anything any better.”

Goro sighed like Akira was the most troublesome living thing in existence. “I find it extremely hard to understand the logic of not wanting to upset someone that hurt _you_ ,” he huffed. “You have felt this way for years; they can cope with feeling bad about it now.”

“It doesn’t help anything,” Akira insisted. “Making them feel bad doesn’t make me feel any better.” He pressed his face against Goro’s collar. “...what if they decide to get rid of me for real?”

“Then they didn’t deserve you in the first place.” Goro’s other hand slipped into his hair, cradling his head. “And you have all of us, and Sakura-san, who clearly love you more.”

That got a snort out of Akira. “That’s just your ego talking.”

“My ego is well-deserved and you know it. I was a beloved public figure.” He drummed his fingers lightly against Akira’s scalp, and Akira nosed his neck.

“Was,” he parroted, and there was definitely a hint of the usual smug Akira there.

Before Goro could accuse him of being an asshole, the door to the room opened, and the other Thieves piled in, waving plastic bags.

“So we went by this bakery and everything in the window looked so good,” Ann began.

“And then Haru decided she wanted to go in because she wanted to scope it out,” Futaba continued.

“And Yusuke said he was hungry…” Makoto sighed.

“And I said pastries for dinner was a good idea!” Ryuji said proudly.

“So Haru bought half the shop!” Morgana chimed. “There’s a lot of choices.”

Akira could practically hear his boyfriend drooling at the mention of delicious bread-based breakfast food, and dragged himself as upright as he could without actually leaving the hug he was wrapped in. He met Haru’s eyes with a soft smile, and she looked away, faintly pink. “I thought something sweet would help.”

“It does, Haru, thank you,” Akira said. They laid out a truly impressive spread of pastries on the room’s table, and Akira found himself passed around for assorted hugs as they all ate, stuffing their faces with cream-filled eclairs and mascarpone-topped danish drizzled with honey. His parents would have a fit if they knew that he was eating basically nothing but sweets for dinner, but for the first time all day, he didn’t care what they thought. Goro was right, the same way Haru and Makoto had been right earlier. He had his friends. If his parents didn’t want him, it would hurt, but… He could handle it.

He could handle it.


	2. March 23, 2017

Akira’s parents didn’t contact him until the next morning. It was a simple text from his father that just said, _‘Do you have time to talk?’_

“That’s why I came here,” Akira growled. “I have nothing _but_ time to talk.” Half the Thieves were still downstairs taking advantage of the inn’s free breakfast buffet, and the other half crowded around him to see the text for themselves.

Morgana, hanging off his shoulders, frowned at the phone. “At least they want to talk to you?” he said, tilting his head curiously.

“Probably to tell me they want nothing else to do with me,” Akira huffed, and Ann swatted the back of his head lightly.

“Give them a chance,” she admonished. “Your dad seemed like he understood, and he probably talked down your mom. Just hear what they have to say.”

He whined, loudly, and Haru couldn’t help but smile. “If you truly don’t want to, Akira-kun, we can go home, but I think you will regret it if you don’t talk to them.”

“I know I will.” Akira sighed, flopping backwards and smushing Morgana into the bed. Morgana yowled, batting at him, but Akira just flipped over, using him as a squirmy, wriggling pillow.

“Akira, get off me!”

When the remaining Thieves returned from the buffet, they were missing one. Makoto was carrying a paper cup of coffee, while Ryuji and Futaba were making faces at Yusuke behind his back.

“We need to take Yusuke to the hotel buffet so we can see how much he can really eat in one go,” Futaba chirped. “He could win contests or something!”

Akira looked over from where he was still affectionately crushing Morgana. “Maybe after we get home, before Goro has to go back to Iwatodai. Where is Goro anyway?”

“We left him in the lobby. He’s on the phone with his dads,” Ryuji said, grinning.

Makoto sighed. “He suggested that he be the only one to accompany you today. We don’t want your parents to feel like we’re ganging up on them.”

Freeing Morgana at last, Akira pushed himself to his feet and went to rummage through his bag. “I guess I should put on shoes and whatever, then, because they texted that they want to talk.”

“That sounds like a very good sign,” Yusuke said reassuringly. “And Goro knows to text us if anything happens. Please do not stress too much.”

“I’m not stressed,” Akira said, cramming his shoes onto his feet.

“That’s a big fat lie. You’re wound up like you’re about to run a Palace or something!” Ryuji accused.

“He’s right, ‘Kira, you look all tense,” Futaba added.

Akira sighed with defeat. “All right, all right, I am stressed. I’ll be okay; Goro won’t let me do anything I’ll regret.”

As he left to go down to the lobby, the other Thieves exchanged a glance. Goro was very good at self-control, yes, but if things went far enough south he’d be right beside Akira, raising hell and making bad choices. Things would be okay, though.

It wasn’t like Akira’s parents wouldn’t deserve having to deal with the mess they created.

***

Akira spotted Goro sitting in the corner of the lobby, a small smile on his face as he chatted on the phone. He didn’t announce himself right away, creeping close enough to eavesdrop just a little.

“Mm-hm. No, I’m trying very hard _not_ to, actually… ...While I certainly wouldn’t object, I’m not sure that anyone else would agree… ...perhaps. I may need to stay an extra day, depending how things go…” Goro’s smile slipped, just a little, then returned as he listened to whatever was being said on the other end. “I appreciate it. I’ll call back when we leave... ...Mm-hm. Bye.”

“Staying an extra day?” Akira asked, leaning over his shoulder, and Goro jumped and nearly dropped the phone.

“Don’t _do_ that!” he hissed. “How long were you standing there?”

“Just a minute or two,” Akira assured him. “Seriously, you get to stay an extra day after we get back?”

Goro averted his eyes. “I have no idea how today will go, so… I thought it prudent to make sure I could be there if you needed me in the aftermath. Mochizuki-san gave his permission; he said it would be unfair to demand I come home if you were upset.”

It was heartening to know that Goro’s guardians cared enough to allow that. Akira hadn’t spent much time with them, but out of all of the Shadow Operatives that he _had_ met, they were the top of the list of ones he trusted. He reached for Goro’s hands, pulling him to his feet. “Well, we’ll know if you need to stick around soon enough. They want me to come talk.”

His boyfriend’s expression settled into something determined. “Let’s not keep them waiting, then. You deserve a response to everything that you’ve told them.”

***

No one said much as they all settled into the living room. Akira’s mother wasn’t making eye contact with either of them, and Goro kept Akira’s hand firmly in his as they squeezed onto the loveseat.

“Your other friends didn’t come today?” Akira’s father asked.

“Didn’t want you to feel like we were ganging up on you,” Akira mumbled. “You wanted to talk.”

“We do.” Satoru glanced at his wife, then said. “You really didn’t tell us anything all this time because you thought we would get upset?”

Akira sighed. He looked exhausted, despite sleeping relatively fine the night before. “It was an accident, a lot of the time,” he admitted. “I’d put off saying something because I wasn’t sure how you’d react, and then I’d just never tell you because I was afraid you would get angry that I kept it a ‘secret’ for so long.” He ducked his head. “Or I would be upset at something you did or something you said, but it wouldn’t seem like you cared, so I just stayed quiet until it was too late to bring up. And then it would hurt, but I wouldn’t feel like I could say anything, because it was so long ago and so...apparently insignificant. And I wouldn’t want to upset you by dredging up something that had already passed, so I’d just...try to put it away and not think about it.”

“I understand,” Goro murmured. “We’re the same in that respect. When you don’t want to cause trouble, when you don’t feel safe enough to block the blow… You take the wounds, and you bandage them up and forget them. Because that’s all you can do, until someone knocks into them because they didn’t know they were there. And then you realize that they never really healed; you just temporarily stopped the bleeding.”

“Akechi-kun,” Satoru said, and Goro shook his head.

“Sorry. This isn’t about me.”

Akira nudged his shoulder against Goro’s, then glanced at his mother. Megumi still wasn’t looking at him, and he said, “I was just...scared. I was afraid that you’d blame me for everything. And I never wanted to know if I was right.”

Silence fell over the room, and Akira’s mother buried her face in her hands as she started crying. “Akira… I had no idea. Have you really felt that way all this time? Have you really been that unhappy?”

“No,” Akira said weakly. “Most of the time things were fine. It was obvious you weren’t doing it on purpose, so that just made it harder to bring things up. Because I knew you weren’t _trying_ to hurt me.”

Goro sat, saying nothing, just holding Akira’s hand folded between his own. His experiences with ‘parents’ were limited to far more severe emotional and physical abuse and neglect, and his life at Iwatodai, which was so far to the opposite end of the spectrum that he wasn’t sure how to react to something closer to the middle. The idea that Akira had essentially considered it a tolerable level of unhappiness was painful to think of.

At last, Megumi took a deep breath, wiping at her eyes. “Your father said that you were planning to stay in Tokyo?”

Akira nodded. His voice was tight as he explained, “I...want to finish school with my friends. Boss already said that I can stay in my old room, and my teacher promised I’d have my spot at Shujin. I just… I could come back here, but… None of my old friends here want anything to do with me, I don’t think my old school would want me… I feel like I would be so isolated, and I can’t… I can’t do that again. Jail was bad enough.”

“You went to jail to make sure Shido got convicted, right?” his father asked.

“Yes. I had to testify. There wasn’t another option, or he might have gotten away with it.”

Satoru reached for his wife’s hand. “You’ve been through far too much. We discussed it last night; if you want to finish your last year of high school in Tokyo, you have our blessing. On the condition that we want to hear from you. We want to hear how you’re doing, or if you need anything. And we will do better about calling you, in return.”

Akira’s eyes widened. “I can stay? Really?” He squeezed Goro’s hands tightly.

“We want you to be happy, Akira,” Megumi said. “I’m just...sorry that we didn’t realize that you weren’t sooner.”

Akira slumped over with relief and exhaustion. “...thank you.”

His father nodded. “And one day, we’d like to hear about your friends as well. You...screamed a lot of things that we don’t understand, during that phone call. You talked about having to save your friends...you said that you nearly _died_.”

“It’s a long story,” Akira murmured. “And it’s not just mine.”

“The least we can do is listen,” his father said, and Akira huffed a weak laugh.

“I’m...not going to say anything there.” He leaned into Goro, looking up lazily. “Should we tell them about how I almost died?”

“Which time?” Goro said automatically, earning horrified looks from both adults, and Akira laughed despite himself.

“There weren’t that many!”

It was going to take a lot of work to figure out how to explain in a non-supernatural way, but now that they seemed to be willing to listen, Akira found that he wanted to talk.

For the first time in a long time, he actually wanted to talk. 

***

They ended up all going to dinner together, Akira’s parents and all of his friends, and it was the most at-ease Akira had felt about anything involving his parents in over a year. It didn’t _feel_ like it had only been a year since that first incident with Shido. With everything that had happened, he might as well have been gone for a decade.

His parents were actually impressed by his friends. Akira had never thought of them as such a wide variety of people before, but he supposed it was true. An athlete, a model, an artist… An entrepreneur and a computer genius… A detective prodigy and a future police prodigy… 

And Morgana, who his parents were warming up to with every passing minute, because despite his objections, he really was adorable.

“I helped teach them all how to be phantom thieves,” Morgana said proudly.

“You did?” Akira’s mother asked.

“We couldn’t have done it without him,” Akira said with a perfectly straight face, and the two adults looked politely baffled at the idea of a twelve-year-old child teaching the group. All of them knew that it wouldn’t be any better if they tried to explain the cat thing, so they wisely kept quiet on that front.

“We couldn’t have done it without you either, Akira-kun,” Haru assured him. “You were our leader, and you helped all of us in some way. You’ve given us so much we can never repay.”

There was a chorus of agreement from the other Thieves, causing their leader to put down his fork and cover his face. “Guys…” Akira looked away, flushed with embarrassment, and his father chuckled.

“You’ve gained so many wonderful friends. It’s no wonder you want to go back to Tokyo so you can be with all of them.”

“Makoto got into Todai, so she’ll still be around, and Haru’s doing the business program at Hitotsubashi,” Ann chimed in. “Goro’s the only one who’s outside the city.”

“Oh?” Megumi asked. “Where are you living, Akechi-kun?”

“My guardians live in Iwatodai. I’ll be finishing my last year at Gekkoukan High School,” Goro replied. “But visits are no trouble, and I have every intention of getting into Todai as well. I can’t allow Makoto to outdo me.”

“It’s...not a competition?” Makoto said, sounding confused, and Ryuji laughed into his rice.

The rest of the evening passed surprisingly comfortably. While the rest of the Thieves returned to the inn, Akira got to show Goro his old room. Goro was suitably amused by his old posters and his non-crate-supported bed, but was happy to see even a snapshot of what Akira’s life had been like before fate had come knocking.

***

When Akira opened his eyes, he looked around blearily at the deep blue of the Velvet Room and pushed himself upright on the couch. Igor was sitting in the armchair across the coffee table, and Lavenza clutched the compendium at his side.

“Greetings, Trickster,” Igor said, and something about his smile was full of pride. “I see that you have found a reconciliation of old bonds.”

Akira took a deep breath. “...yeah.” One day he was going to have to figure out how they knew these things.

“You have overcome every trial before you. I know that it has not been easy, but the strength you have displayed is something to be proud of.” Igor gestured, and Lavenza opened the compendium on the table between them. A glowing card rose from it, spinning lazily, and when Akira reached out to let it settle in his palm, he noted the XXI emblazoned on it.

“Oh, this is…”

“This arcana is the World,” Lavenza said. “To have it in your possession shows that you have truly completed your journey. There is nothing further we can offer save advice and friendship.”

The card burst into light and appeared on the compendium page alongside the other arcana, and Akira smiled, unwilling to admit that he felt like he could cry. He kept his focus mostly on Lavenza, still leery of Igor, and said lightly, “That means I can just come and go whenever I want like Arisato-san, right?”

Igor shut his eyes for a moment, and Akira stomped down a bolt of anxiety. He didn’t want to upset Igor. But the Master of the Velvet Room just chuckled dryly. “Indeed. You are welcome here as you like. I am quite certain that my attendants already consider you as good as family.”

To Akira’s surprise, Lavenza actually averted her eyes and blushed, just a little. Igor didn’t seem to notice, getting to his feet and nodding to Akira. “I bid you farewell for now. I look forward to seeing what you do from here.”

Once he was gone, Akira glanced curiously at Lavenza, who closed the compendium and folded her hands behind her. “What’s wrong, Lavenza?”

“N-Nothing is wrong,” she stammered. “I just… You will come visit, like Minato-san does?”

“Of course I will. Your master is still kind of scary, and I don’t know your big siblings that well, but I’d come just to see you.”

Lavenza ducked around the table to throw her arms around him and press her face to his stomach. “I love you, Trickster. I’m glad you’ll still be here.”

Akira smiled, dropping to his knees to hug her properly. “I love you too, Lavenza. But you can call me by my name, you know?”

She pulled back to look at him and hesitated. “Akira-san?” When he just raised an eyebrow, she ducked her head again. “A-Akira-kun?”

“That works.” He hugged her tight, feeling the same level of protectiveness as he did for all of his other friends. Eventually, she pulled away, patting his cheek.

“You have to sleep, now. We shouldn’t keep you too long,” she said fondly.

“Thank you, Lavenza.” Akira smiled, leaning into her hand, and then everything went fuzzy and he woke up in bed. It still felt surreal to stare up at his childhood ceiling, with Goro sprawled on top of him fast asleep.

This trip had gone far better than he was expecting. Things still weren’t perfect, but they were a lot better than they had been three days ago. And now that his parents hopefully understood, it would only get better in the future. For the first time in a long time, he felt like there were only good things to look forward to.

**Author's Note:**

> How much of this was for Akira, and how much of it was for me? The world may never know. But either way, things have been wrapped up there.
> 
> There's two things left in this series as I have planned right now: the Wedding Fic, and one other oneshot that's a rewrite of something else. Honestly the oneshot will probably be done first even though it's the last thing chronologically, just because the wedding is going to take some planning. There's a lot of things I want to fit in there.
> 
> Anyway, I hope this was good, because it was...definitely something to write. But like I said at the start, Akira needed this.


End file.
